Title: The Butterfly Effect.

Beta: Kimberly – thank you so much for all of your help, Kim, and for such a warm welcome into a new fandom. You are truly amazing. xx

Disclaimer:  All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.  I’m just using them for my perverted sense of fun.

Prologue.

The flashing lights and the thumpa-thumpa were similar to Babylon; the beautiful boys who twisted to the dark, techno beat were not.  Smooth skin, younger faces, and the tinge of excitement in the air replaced the tumbling glitter and the ghostly specterof Brian Kinney who would glare down from the catwalk as he searched the crowds of Babylon for his next trick.  Emmett hadn’t stepped foot in Boytoy in several years; Babylon was his playground, and the young twinkies who were dancing below didn’t offer up the experience that a man from Babylon would bring to Emmett’s bed.  But he wasn’t here to find a playmate; Alex Wilder had approached him in the diner earlier in the week and asked to speak to him alone. 

The conversation that followed was held in the strictest of confidences, and it left Emmett reeling.  Disbelief had come hard and fast, and had lasted for more than an hour as Alex patiently explained why he was there; there were moments when Emmett still had trouble wrapping his mind around what he was hearing.  Dismay soon replaced disbelief.  And when resignation sank over him like ice water, Emmett had come to the silent realization that Alex was telling him the truth.    

Glancing at the man who stood beside him, Emmett took a sip of his water as Alex’s eyes searched the crowded dance floor.  Powerfully versatile, Alex was known as one of the best fucks on Liberty. He was friendly and well-liked by anyone who met him.  He was also a clinical psychologist, one that specialized in counseling people who suffered from depression.  And when he suddenly reached up and grasped Emmett's jaw in his fingertips, Emmett let him turn his face and followed Alex's outstretched finger with his eyes.  It took a moment for them to adjust to the flashing light, but he soon saw the young man that Alex was pointing towards. 

Justin was dancing between two twinks; his shirt was off, and his eyes were shut as he rolled his hips in time to the pounding music while the young men he danced with ran their hands over his skin.  Emmett blinked slowly and then peered closer.  The two boys Justin was dancing with were blondes; his brow creasing in confusion, Emmett scanned the surrounding area, but couldn't see the young musician that Justin had left Babylon with three months ago.  Turning his gaze back to Justin, Emmett continued to watch as the twink in front of Justin grasped his face and angled Justin's jaw up so they could kiss.  But when Justin turned his face from the intended kiss, the twink pulled Justin’s jaw back towards him and tried again.  That was when Justin pushed him away with two firm hands against the twink's chest.

Emmett saw Justin's face twist in anger before the young blonde's lips formed the snarled words ‘fuck off.'  Turning his back on the boy, Justin grasped the belt loops of the other twink and drew him across the dance floor, where the two of them disappeared into a shadowed alcove. Although it had been years since Emmett had frequented Boytoy, he knew damn well that the alcove was the equivalent of Babylon’s backroom, and he could no longer hide his confusion.  Turning to meet Alex’s steady look, Emmett could only gesture weakly; Alex merely raised his eyebrow and turned to walk down the stairs.

The alcove was darker than the main dance floor, and it took several minutes for Emmett's eyes to adjust as Alex led him deeper into the room.  But when they did, Emmett desperately wished he had remained blinded by the darkness.  It wasn't as if he had never seen Justin in the backroom of Babylon before.  He had seen Justin fuck other guys, and he had seen Justin being fucked by Brian more times than he could count.  But he had never seen anyone but Brian fuck Justin until now. 

Justin's entire presence was blank as the twink moved behind him; his eyes were open, but Emmett wondered if Justin was even aware of what was going on as he braced himself against the wall with his forearms.  Skimming concerned eyes over the blond, Emmett took in the red marks that the twink fucking Justin was leaving on the boy’s slender hips, but it was when he saw that Justin wasn’t even erect that Emmett took a step towards the pair.  He stopped, however, and turned to face Alex when he grasped his arm.

“Is he high?  Does he even know what he’s doing?” Emmett asked with real worry, and Alex raised his eyebrow as he leaned close to Emmett’s ear and murmured a single phrase that spoke volumes.

“Pain management.”

1.

Slowly rolling the piece of cold metal between his fingers, Brian lay under the blue lights of his bed and watched as the smoke ring he had just blown float towards the ceiling. The weed he was smoking was prime, and he enjoyed the soft edge he was feeling as he inhaled the last of the joint before reaching out to drop it in the glass ashtray beside the bed.  Flopping back onto the pillows, he began to roll the thin metal in his fingers once more.  Holding it up to examine it, Brian huffed out a harsh breath as his cell phone began to ring; it had been going off all afternoon, and Brian continued to ignore it as he dropped his hand back down to his chest.

He'd found the gold ring a few weeks after Justin had left the loft; it had fallen off the bedside table at some point and rolled under the edge of the bed.  Brian had spotted it after waking up from a weekend bender on the floor.  The ring had glinted slightly in the morning light, and when he reached out for that glimmer in the dark, the mystery of the missing nipple ring was solved.  It was the only thing of Justin's, other than a single grey sock, that remained in the loft; that, and the ghostly echo of his voice. 

“So, what the fuck are you still doin' here?”

“Would you care if I wasn't?”

The boy had done more than remove all traces of himself from Brian's loft; Justin had also removed all traces of himself from Liberty Avenue, too.  He hadn't been seen in Woody's or at Babylon for over three months.  The day after the Rage launch, Justin showed up at the diner for his shift.  The boy had done his job in silence, and Deb’s concern for the awkwardness of the situation meant that she had taken the family’s breakfast orders without inserting her typical, acerbic comments.  Justin had merely kept his eyes averted and his head down.  Brian had come home from work later that afternoon to an empty loft, and the sight of Justin’s keys sitting mockingly by the answering machine.  Within days of that, Debbie had been ranting that Justin had quit his job mid-shift; he had just walked out, with no explanation.  Brian hadn’t seen or spoken to Justin since.  And he was more than okay with that.

Brian didn't miss Justin at all; not his chatter or his crap spread from one side of the loft to the other.  Not the meals that Brian had gotten so used to eating when he came home from work.  Not the early morning fucks in the shower, or the late-night blowjobs that threatened to take the top of his skull off.  Nope.  Brian didn't miss Justin one iota. No apologies, no regrets.  Brian also realized he was full of shit within twenty-four hours of Justin leaving.  He buried the pain in a marathon session of fucking, drinking, drugs, and work.  Nothing helped.  Not when every time he closed his eyes he saw Justin being kissed by the fiddler in front of all of Babylon.   

Nearly a month had slipped by in a haze of Kinney style pain management when Lindsay tentatively asked Brian if he had seen Justin.  She hadn't spoken to him in a while, and she didn't know where he was staying.  A few days later, Emmett asked him the same question as he waited for a cup of coffee.  It was when Michael mumbled that Justin's email address and phone number weren't working, and he didn't think Justin wanted to work on Rage anymore, that Brian began to realize just how far he had thrown Justin off the cliff.

He had been surprised when he began to put the pieces together; yes, Justin had been thrown off the high Kinney cliff, but the family had taken Brian's side.  Maybe only for the first few days, but Justin had been outright ignored that early morning in the diner, and he had distanced himself accordingly.  No one knew where he was living.  No one knew where he was working.  No one knew anything.  The family had taken Brian's side and shut Justin out, but it had been Justin who had locked the door behind them. 

“The problem is, you leave your door open, and you never know who's coming in…. or out.”

Brian swore softly as that barely remembered trick’s voice whispered through the air.  There had been no locks on their door; Brian liked it that way.  Anyone could come in to get fucked.  He’d just never thought that Justin would be the one who would walk out.  And now that there was an iron-clad fucking lock on Justin’s side of the door, Brian had no idea how even to begin to pry it back open.  Jennifer had point blank refused to tell Debbie where Justin was when Debbie finally called her a week after Justin had walked out of Babylon.

Debbie had gotten upset and told Jennifer that she had expected more from Justin, and Jennifer had nearly laughed herself sick.  It was then that Jennifer delivered a few home truths to Debbie; Deb hadn’t told Brian what Jennifer had said after that point, but the shame and grief in Deb’s voice told Brian that whatever Jennifer had said to Debbie had shaken Debbie’s belief in her family to the core.  After that single phone call, Jennifer had swiftly cut them out of her life just like her son had done.

Brian only knew Justin was still in school, because his progress report had been emailed to him a week ago.  But that in and of itself was enough for concern.  Justin’s grades had slipped from straight A’s to B’s and C’s.  His professors talked about the dark tones of Justin's work, and the expectation that he had to lift his grades up next semester.  Otherwise, he would have to rethink his position at school.  There were plenty of other students wanting a place at PIFA who wouldn’t let their grades slip.  The professors expected more from him.

Brian sighed as he wondered just what Justin’s expectations for himself were.  Everyone had spoken about what they had expected from Justin; Michael had expected him to work on Rage.  Deb had expected him to be his sun-shiny self at the diner, despite what had occurred between Justin and Brian less than ten hours earlier.  Lindsay still expected Justin to babysit Gus at a moment’s notice.  The professors expected Justin to maintain an “A” grade average, even with the problems he had with his hand.  And Brian… Brian huffed out a bitter chuckle.  He had expected the most from Justin.  It was no wonder the boy had walked away without a backward glance.  

Brian broke out of his musings when the buzzer alerted him to the fact that someone wanted to talk to him.  He didn’t want to talk to Lindsay or Michael.  Lindsay alternated between cloying sympathy and bewilderment as to why he wasn’t opening up to her about the wayward youth.  And Michael alternated between anger at Justin walking away from them all, and some unidentified emotion that Brian was beginning to suspect was guilt.  Why Michael was feeling guilty was almost beyond Brian’s capacity to care at that point, but it continued to niggle at him.

The buzzer to the loft sounded again in a sharp reverberation, tearing Brian out of the comfort of his haze.  When it seemed as if someone was leaning on the button, Brian dragged himself up off the bed and crossed the loft with angry strides.  Hitting the reply button, Brian fairly bit the words out between clenched teeth.

“What the fuck do you want?”   

“Brian, it's Emmett.  Can I please come up?”

Brian's brows creased as he stared at the intercom in surprise; he could count on one hand with his fist clenched the number of times Emmett had come to his home alone and was curious enough to let the man in without comment.  Emmett had been relatively quiet over the last week or so; his usual flamboyance had dimmed alarmingly to the point that Michael had asked Emmett if he was having a ‘seeing the light’ moment again.  Emmett had grimaced before shaking his head and leaving the diner without a word.  Pulling the door open an inch, Brian crossed the loft to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water.

He heard the loft door slide back as he opened the bottle and took a deep swallow, silence lingering in the air.  Glancing towards the door, Brian paused with the bottle partway to his mouth.  Emmett stood in the doorway; he was twisting his hands nervously in front of him and looked like he was going to be physically sick.  Emotions aside, Brian knew he wasn't going to like whatever Emmett said merely from the way Emmett had dressed for the visit; he had never seen the nelly queen dressed down like this before.  Everyday jeans and a dark coat, Emmett looked as if he had had his flame permanently snuffed out.

“What the fuck’s wrong with you?” Brian asked, and Emmett grimaced before wrenching his hands apart and hiding them behind his back.

“We’re friends, aren't we, Brian?" Emmett asked, and when Brian rolled his eyes, Emmett held up his hand.

The fact that Emmett’s hand was shaking like a leaf spoke volumes, and Brian bit back the nasty comment that had formed on his lips without uttering a word.

“I need to ask you that, Brian.  I need to know that we’re friends; I want to know that you know I would never deliberately try to hurt you.  Not in any way.  You do know that, don’t you?” Emmett pleaded, and Brian swallowed as Emmett took a couple of steps towards him.

It was when Brian gave a tiny nod of his head that Emmett spoke again.

“Then I want you to come with me…right now.”

Brian’s face twisted slightly, and Emmett took a couple more steps towards him and held up his hands to silence Brian before he could speak.

“I would never hurt you, Brian; I might not like how you handle things sometimes, but I would never deliberately hurt you.  I’m not that cruel.”

‘I’m not like you’ hung unspoken in the air, and Brian scowled as he turned towards his bedroom to get his boots on, while ignoring the shaky breath he heard Emmett let out.  A few minutes later, Brian led Emmett out of the loft and downstairs towards his jeep before Emmett spoke again. 

“We aren’t taking your jeep, Brian; it’s too well known.”

Biting his tongue against the sharp retort that wanted to slip free, Brian just rolled his eyes and followed Emmett towards a nondescript silver sedan that had been parked on the side of the road. Sliding behind the wheel of the car, Emmett looked at Brian for a long moment before he sighed, and without a word, he put the car into gear and pulled out into the flow of traffic.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The neighborhood was pretty; lined with trees and bustling with weekend pedestrians heading to the manicured park that bordered the street close to where Emmett had parked.  Brian glanced at Emmett who seemed to be fixating on the white weatherboard house with the blue trim; Emmett had maintained his silence during the fifteen-minute drive, but when he shifted in his seat and looked at Brian, it seemed as if he was regretting asking Brian to come with him.  Finally, he swallowed and gestured towards the house in question.

“So I was sitting in the diner, minding my own business, when Alex Wilder asked me if we could get a cup of coffee," he began slowly and then turned back to stare at the house, oblivious to how still Brian had become when he heard the name.  “I agreed, because who doesn’t like Alex?” Emmett continued.  “I figured that he wanted to have a bit of a gossip, but then he began to tell me this story about this guy he was seeing.  I couldn't figure out why he was telling me this until he told me that he was more than just an ass in the backroom.  He's a clinical psychologist; he helps people who suffer from depression.  Did you know that about him, Brian?”

Brian nodded his head slowly as Emmett continued to look at the house in question.

"He sees his patients in this swanky office, not all that far from where you work, to be honest.  He charges them a fortune.  But he also sees patients in the hospital.  And sometimes… just sometimes, he sees them in the privacy of his own home when they can't afford the fee, or when their insurance doesn't cover them for multiple sessions.  When the case is close to his heart… he opens up his home to these people.  He said he’d only done it a couple of times in the past.  And he’s doing it again now.”

Emmett finally turned in his seat and looked at Brian.  Licking his lips, Emmett silently gestured to the park they were beside.  Turning his head, Brian blanched when he saw who was sitting at a table not twenty meters away.  Ethan was wrapped up in a thick coat, and he was blowing into his cupped hands as he hunched his shoulders against the brisk wind that was stirring the leaves on the ground. Whipping back to face Emmett, Brian opened his mouth to speak, only to have Emmett reach out and lay a gentle hand on his knee.

“Remember when I said I would never deliberately hurt you?” Emmett urged, and gestured once more towards the park.

Glaring at the other man for a minute, Brian turned back towards the park.  And as he stared at Ethan, Brian watched as another young brunet walked over to where Ethan was sitting.  The two boys talked for a minute, but as Brian stared at Ethan, the newcomer stepped between Ethan's knees and bent his head to kiss Ethan's upturned lips.  Brian felt Emmett's hand come up to rest on his shoulder as Brian stared at the scene before him, observing Ethan wrap his arms around the other boy and kiss him again.  That gentle kiss forced Brian to look away from the pair, and he glared at Emmett with a sneer on his face.

“So much for Justin’s grand romance with his one true love.  It looks like the fiddler is fiddling someone else," he spat, but Emmett shook his head slowly.

"Brian… I don't know what happened to you and Justin.  I don't want to know.  It's none of my business.  But Ethan isn't cheating on Justin; that boy with Ethan?  His name is Sam.  He’s a musician at PIFA.   And they’ve been dating for nearly twelve months.”

Brian shook his head in disbelief as he turned back to look at Ethan and Sam. The two boys sat on top of the table, huddled together against the cold and whispering.  Brian swallowed against nausea that was rolling like a wave in his stomach when Sam reached up to grasp the back of Ethan’s neck as Ethan lowered his head dejectedly into his hands.  Turning in his seat again, Brian could only stare at Emmett as the other man continued to speak quietly.   

“They live together.  They do go to school with Justin, but the great romance you're talking about?  It doesn't exist.  It never did.  I don't know who told you differently, but they were wrong.  So wrong that… Jesus, Brian…"

Visibly upset, Emmett broke off and shook his head as he looked back towards the white house again.  Brian looked back towards Ethan, only to see that Ethan and Sam had left the table and were walking down towards the white house hand-in-hand.  When they got to the house, Ethan leaned against the railing of the steps and wrapped his arms around Sam.  They had only been standing there a minute when the front door opened and Brian saw Dr. Alex Wilder look out at the two boys.  And when Alex pulled the door fully open as Ethan and Sam broke apart, Brian finally saw why Emmett had brought him here as his breath escaped his body in a pained rush of air.

"His hair's longer," was all he could manage, and Emmett nodded as Brian laid eyes on the slim boy who was standing in Alex’s doorway.

Even with the distance, Brian could see that Justin had lost considerable weight; his face was void of all color, and he seemed to sway slightly on his feet as Ethan hurried up the steps to meet him.  Justin's arms were wrapped tightly around his waist, and when Ethan reached up and cupped Justin's face in the palms of his hands, Brian could see the flinch that caused Justin to visibly twitch before Ethan pulled the blonde into his arms and held him tightly.   Alex was speaking to Sam, who was nodding as Ethan tucked Justin’s face into the crook of his neck and ran his hand over the back of Justin’s bowed head. 

But when Alex ran his hand down the center of Justin's back, Justin lifted his head from Ethan's shoulder and took a few steps out of Alex's reach.  The two briefly spoke before Alex reached back into the opened house and brought out the thick silvery jacket that Justin wore.   Ethan reached for the jacket and helped Justin into it before he zipped the coat up for him.  The jacket zipped, Ethan wrapped his arm around Justin’s shoulders and slowly guided him down the steps and towards the shit heap of a car that was parked by the front of Alex’s house.  Unable to tear his eyes away from the sight of Justin being guided gently into the back seat of the car, Brian almost missed it when Emmett began to speak again.

“Brian…  Alex is called to the hospital when people are…sick.  He assesses them and helps the medical staff to decide each case.  Sometimes Alex suggests medication.  Sometimes he suggests therapy.  Sometimes he suggests that the person is…Uhh… hospitalized for a little while.  Just until they feel better."   

Brian was unable to tear his eyes away from the car Justin was sitting in.  Ethan was sitting in the backseat beside Justin.  From what Brian could see, he was holding Justin in his arms as Sam slipped into the driver's seat and started the car.  Brian continued to stare at the vehicle, willing Justin to lift his head from Ethan's shoulder as it drove past them and turned the corner.  After it disappeared, Brian finally turned back to look at Emmett.

“What are you saying, Em?” he asked finally, and Emmett sighed.

"Brian," Emmett said as he reached out to hold Brian's hand.  "Justin was in the hospital.  He's been seeing Alex three times a week, every week, for nearly three months.”  

Brian shook his head in confusion.

“I’m down as Justin’s POA.  They would have called me,” he said, and Emmett shrugged.

“I don’t know what to say, Brian.  I can only tell you what Alex told me, which isn’t very much.”

Emmett squinted as he looked out the window for a moment before he finally looked back at Brian.

“Brian… Alex was called in because Ethan came home from school a few days after the Rage party and he found Justin in the bathtub.  He was nonresponsive, so Ethan called an ambulance.  Justin was taken to the hospital, and ended up having his stomach pumped.  He was assessed by Alex and a full medical team.”

“So he OD’d?” Brian asked, and Emmett shook his head slightly.

“Maybe we could call it that if Justin had been at a club, and had taken a bad hit of E,” he said softly.  “Maybe if Alex hadn't diagnosed Justin as suffering from clinical depression.  Brian, I'm sorry, but Alex said that Justin didn’t OD; they think he tried to kill himself.”